O you who ask where she has set her course—
She has an appointed tryst with the people of Yathrib.
If you would ask about me—many a questioner,
Earnest inquirers about al-Aʿshā, will tell you wherever I go.
She quickened her legs to a headlong sprint,
Her forelegs folding back, supple, unstrained.
And in her, when the noon-heat blazes in proud intensity,
There is the boldness of a chameleon at midday, thinking itself safe from the hunter.
I have sworn an oath: I shall give her no shelter
From fatigue or from the bruising stones
Until she meets Muhammad.
Once she kneels at the door of the son of Hāshim,
She will rest and drink of his flowing bounty.
A Prophet who sees what you do not—
By my life, his fame has spread through valley and highland alike.
His alms never cease, his gifts keep coming;
What he bestows today does not prevent his giving tomorrow.
By your life, have you not heard Muhammad’s counsel,
The Prophet of God when he exhorted and bore witness?
If you set out with no provision of piety
And then, after death, meet those who prepared in advance,
You will regret not having done as they did—
Not having readied yourself for what was sure to come.
So beware of carrion—go nowhere near it,
And do not take a sharp iron arrow to bleed it.
Do not offer sacrifice at any standing stone;
Do not worship idols—worship God alone.
Do not go near a neighbor-woman whose intimacy is forbidden to you;
Either marry lawfully, or abstain forever.
Do not sever the ties of near kin out of fear for the future,
Nor abandon the captive who is bound in chains.
Glorify your Lord at evening and at dawn;
Do not praise Satan—praise God instead.
And never mock a wretched soul in distress,
Nor suppose that a man’s wealth can render him immortal.